


2 - Short Version: Not Dead

by MizJoely



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Warstan, john watson's groundhog days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 14:44:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17082281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/pseuds/MizJoely
Summary: Prompt No. 2 for the John Watson's Groundhog Days series: Sherlock's dramatic dinnertime back from the dead reveal





	2 - Short Version: Not Dead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Quarto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quarto/gifts).



> Credit to arianedevere on livejournal for doing such a marvelous job of transcribing the episodes, which I used to check dialogue from The Empty Hearse. Even more credit to Quarto for organizing this!
> 
> Premise based on this tumblr post: marcceh said: Groundhog day AU where on his way home from Sherrinford, John Watson nods off and when he jerks awake he's in his little rented room, cane propped up at the door, and if he remembers correctly today is when he's supposed to go meet up with Stamford but wtf that couldn't have all been a dream, that was his whole life

He's going to propose to Mary...again. And this time he's going to do it the way he'd planned it the first time, before Sherlock messed it up playing silly buggers with his stolen glasses and outrageous French accent and fake moustache (John's even grown his own 'it ages you so' moustache even though he knows that everyone, even Mary, hates it).

 _Nope, not this time, Sherlock,_  John thinks with a bit of a manic grin after Mary excuses herself to use the ladies.

He watches from the corner of his eye as Sherlock makes his serpentine way to the small table where John awaits Mary's return from the ladies. Pretending to be absorbed in the menu, he stifles a grin as Sherlock asks about the wine selection. "Surprise me," John replies, biting the corner of his lips in an attempt not to smile.

"Certainly endeavouring to, sir," Sherlock grumbles, most of the false Frenchiness (and really, for a man who can speak several languages, his accent really is atrocious) buried under his tetchy tones, and John can contain himself no longer.

"Two years gone and this is the best you can come up with - a cheesy disguise and cheesier accent?" he says, finally looking up and meeting Sherlock's shocked gaze. "Christ, I've seen better acting at secondary school productions."

Then he proceeds to further confound him by standing up and hugging him. Yes, that remembered anger might still churn in his gut but in the end he will always find a way to forgive his best friend.

"John?"

At the sound of Mary's inquiring voice he turns and smiles at her. "Mary! You remember my good friend Sherlock Holmes? Short version: not dead." He gestures at Sherlock's painted-on moustache. "His rubs off, mine doesn't, but I promise I'll shave when we get back to the flat." He winks at her flabbergasted expression - and Sherlock's blank face, his own shock given away by the rapid blinks of his eyes as he stares warily at John.

As if expecting to be punched. Well, not this time.

"Don't worry, Mary," John says with a cheeky grin. "I'm doing it for you." Some devil prompts him to add, "I don't shave for Sherlock Holmes."

"Cor, I dunno, six months of bristly kisses for me and then His Nibs shows up," Mary says, her innate sense of the ridiculous rapidly overcoming her shock.

John turns back to Sherlock, continuing the introductions before his Not Dead friend can get a word in. "Sherlock, Mary Morstan, the most amazing woman in the world and hopefully about to change her name to Watson." He pulls out the red velvet covered box he's been hiding in his jacket pocket and opens it as he goes down on one knee.

Sherlock continues to gape at them both, but Mary - his quick, clever Mary - is smiling in delight, her gaze flicking back and forth between the two men before settling on John's face. "Yes," she says, extending her hand and allowing John to slip the ring onto her finger.

He stands up, grinning happily, and pulls her in for a warm kiss. She kisses him back, then whispers in his ear, "You knew he wasn't dead and I would really like to know how."

He whispers back, "Trade secret," kisses her again, and slings an arm around her shoulder so they are standing side by side in front of Sherlock. "Hungry, mate?" he asks solicitously. "Probably better if we slag off to Speedy's, though. More your style, eh?"

Sherlock trails after them as he apologizes to Mary - who assures him that there's no way this night could possibly disappoint, even if it doesn't involve the gourmet dinner she was originally promised.

Ah yes, this time, John thinks happily as he helps her into her coat - this time will be different. No one's getting shot, no one's getting cheated on, no one will need to lie.

The next morning, when he wakes up in his sodding bed-sit, no Mary snuggled warmly against his side, he seriously considers screaming.

With a sigh, instead he rolls onto his back and closes his eyes.

There's always next time.


End file.
